The Adventures of the Spanish Ninja in Japan: (Book 2)
by Maki82
Summary: (Book 2) In this action-packed sequel to Origins of the Spanish Ninja, Vega continues on his journey to become the world's greatest assassin and a future lord of Shadowlaw. He travels to Japan to continue his training, meeting ninjas, Yakuza, & other fighters along the way! What happens? Read and find out! [MATURE READERS ONLY. GRAPHIC VIOLENCE, SEX, ETC. READER DISCRETION ADVISED]
1. Chapter 1

**To Vammy! Thanks as always for your encouragement and support on this journey!**

 **DISCLAIMER/TRIGGER WARNING:**

 **This story contains content of a highly disturbing nature that may be offensive to some readers: including (but definitely not limited to: domestic abuse, rape, blood & gore, general violence, and torture. Please DO NOT read if you are likely to be offended! Vega's life is not a pretty picture!**

 **Vega & other Street Fighter characters owned by CAPCOM. Victoria de Cerna & Marc Antoní Gauldera belong to me.  
  
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 **This is the sequel to** **Origins of the Spanish Ninja!** **If you haven't read it, please read it first(and if you do, please leave me a review for either story! Would love to hear your thoughts)!** _  
 **s/8255134/1/Origins-of-the-Spanish-Ninja-Tastes-Like-Red-Wine-book-1**  
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* * *

 ** _Prologue_**

As I sat on the plane and stared out the window, I tried not to think of the events of the night before I left. I had a little anxiety going into a new country, a new world so different than my own but there was an excitement also building like a knot in my chest.

"Are you ready to start your new life?" asked Marc Antoní, nudging my shoulder as he sat next to me. I did not look at him.

"Go to hell!" I growled.

"One of my favorite places." he grinned. "You know, your hostility won't change anything."

I sighed; my head still whirled as much as I tried to ignore it.

"But I know you're not angry with me. She was a wreck when I saw her this morning..." I felt a sharp pang in my chest at the mention of my once beloved mother.

"Mention her again and I'll slit your throat, old man."

Marc Antoní chuckled, "Fair enough. When we arrive, you must listen to everything the master has to say. Your life will depend on it. There are no second chances among assassins."  
I looked at him.

"I can handle myself."

"Your swaggering confidence can be so _irritating_ sometimes but, I'm glad to see you are not afraid."

"I fear nothing!"

"That is obvious." said the older man with another of his grins. "But I swear to you that if you mess this up, I will make you regret it." his grin faded and his eyes darkened.

"You don't frighten me, Marc Antoní."

"Maybe not; but whether you do or not, I will make you regret it regardless if you miss this chance."

"I don't _care_." I growled, resuming staring out the window. My mentor sighed heavily. I could sense his exasperation and he seemed to hone in on my pain, rubbing the salt in my still-bleeding wound.

"She _will_ be taken care of, I swear it." he assured me, putting his hand on my shoulder.

My jaw set and my shoulders tensed just thinking of her, and I shrugged him off.

"You know, there comes a time for you to stand for yourself and yourself alone. You can't support her your whole life."

I swallowed a growing knot in my throat and my breath hitched.

"She is all I've ever known...and I left her...like _that_."

"You did as you must do. You are not responsible for her emotions. Now, I cannot say what you were fighting over but I know Victoria and I know you. She is a powerful woman...I have no doubt you know this. You cannot deny her."  
I rolled my eyes at him. _Of course_ I knew what she was like! I alone knew the depths of her soul, her very _being_.

I thought of her passionate, gleaming eyes that night before I left, and the hunger that shone in them, threatening to destroy us both. She possessed a power so hard to deny and I stood so close to the abyss, willing myself to fall in and yet, I did not.

I exhaled, squeezing my eyes shut, trying to banish her image from my mind—I could never admit to him how deeply I cared for her, how much I still _needed_ her—and how deeply she had hurt me that night—but just the idea of trying to shut her out made my chest hurt even more.

"You are young and eager, I understand. Your emotions are raw and so close to the surface now and I won't judge you for it. You may hate me but you must understand that you are not alone here; I will take care of you now."

"You cannot _possibly_ begin to understand us, old man. You will _never_ understand me and you only _pretend_ to understand her—you don't even _care_ about her!"

I could feel something warm coming to my eyes; a sensation so foreign that I had not felt it since I was child. I willed it with all my strength to stay where it was, not to fall.

I clenched my fist tight and shook my head, clearing my throat.

Uncle Miguel forbade tears when I was growing up; they made me weak, he said, and I knew Marc Antoní would say the same. I had no intention of being weak—not now, not ever—and not especially in front of Marc Antoní Gauldera.

"Do you hear me, Vega?" he said into my ear as I focused on my thoughts. "I will watch over you now. I do not care that you hate me; it won't change anything. You are my charge now and you will listen to everything I say." I did not look at him, steeling myself further. "Do you understand?" he asked and there was crispness in his voice that made me look at him. I nodded silently.

* * *

 **Chapter 1**

I arrived hours later in Japan. Where I could not be sure however, it appeared to be a large city. I could scarcely read the signs that appeared before me in brush script on paper lanterns, neon signs glowing in a rainbow of colors.

It was Spring and the cherry blossoms rained from the cherry trees in the parks like soft, white snow, a light scent wafting through the warm breeze.

I found the weather to be pleasant; warm and inviting like my beloved country. A slight ache grew in my heart as I read the instructions Marc Antoni had written down.

Before I knew it, I found myself walking towards what looked to be an abandoned building in downtown. The brick was dark and fading, tarnished over years.

I walked inside, the light from the day streaming in through dusty rays. The air was a bit chilled and instead of bare concrete floors, I looked down to see tatami mats.

"Hello?" I said in Japanese, the sound echoing across the expanse of the room.

I heard a soft thud just behind me and I felt the hairs on my neck stand up. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a dark shadow. I barely had time to register movement as I dodged a metal claw coming towards my head.

I rolled forward, away from my attacker and slowly stood to face him.

" _Nante koto da yo?!_ " a Japanese voice hissed. " _Omae..._ "

"W-what? Geki...san?" I said, cautiously.

"What the hell do you want?" he drawled again in heavily accented English.

He stood in the shadows, while I stood safely in a beam of light. I watched as his figure slowly emerged from the darkness.

Geki, as I understood him to be, was a slender Japanese man of average height; slightly shorter than my own. His figure was lean and agile as mine, however, which I knew would make him a swift fighter. He wore a black suit, as I expected of ninjas and from beneath his vest was a fishnet shirt, which I found curious. A strand of long brown hair poked out of his cap and his mask hung around his neck. His eyes were dark and fierce and he stood before me with his arms folded.

"Marc Antoní Gauldera sent me." I replied.

He chuckled with a nod.

" _Aa, yappari ne_...the Spaniard?"

I nodded and he sighed.

"You want to become ninja?"

"I want to become the _best_."

Geki sat crossed-legged in front of me suddenly, drawing a knife from his belt, twisting the tip idly into the palm of his hand. He spoke.

"Shadowlaw?"

"What?"

Geki smirked and threw the knife towards my head, and it landed squarely in a wooden beam behind me.

"Are you Shadowlaw?"

"No...look, Marc Antoní said I would train with you—that you were expecting me— _and_ I can speak Japanese!"

"A _gaijin_ who is not from Shadowlaw wants to learn from _me_?" he snickered.

" _Gaijin!_ " I exclaimed. "I am not _gaijin!_ I am a _Spaniard_ —from _Spain_ —like Marc Antoní Gauldera! I am from Barcelona, Spain, and I am of noble birth. Do you dare to mock me?" I exclaimed in Japanese.

Geki laughed at my redundancy.

"You are not Japanese; you are _all gaijin_ to me, _Gaijin._ " he continued to speak in his accented English.

I growled in frustration; I knew my Japanese was not perfect but I knew he understood me. In my studies, I learned that while _gaijin_ was not necessarily an insult, it meant "foreigner" and in some context, this was seen as a bad thing.

"So your master sent you, did he?"

" _Master_?"

"You _are_ his _protégé_ , are you not?"

"I suppose I am." I replied, taken aback by his comment. I had never really thought of myself that way, regardless of how much Marc Antoní had taught me.

He nodded thoughtfully and stood up.

"Well then, if I train you in the art of ninjutsu, you have to listen to every word I say. Disobeying me could mean your death."

"What? Will you kill me for disobeying you? Will you pursue me to the ends of the earth if I decide to leave?" I snickered.

Geki gave a hearty laugh. The first time I had heard it.

"You have been watching too many movies!" and then as to be expected, his face grew grave again. "I have neither time nor resources to waste it on _you._ It is a fact that we ninja are put in many dangerous situations; if you do not heed my instruction, I cannot be responsible for what may happen to you."

I folded my arms.

"Fair enough." I conceded.

"But—I _will_ kill you if you ever reveal my secrets."

"Yes, yes. I understand."

"Put your things over there." he pointed to a corner of the room and I dropped my bag there. Before I returned to face him, I took out my claw and mask.

"Ah...he's taught you to use my claw?"

"Yes...did you teach him?"

"Yes... but that is for another time..."

I nodded, doing my best to tolerate his enigmatic answer.

Putting on my mask and claw, I took my stance.

"Why do you wear a mask? Do you think your face is ugly?" Geki smirked and I saw an impish gleam in his eye. I knew he knew the answer.

"I wear it so I do not get your filthy blood all over my precious face."

Before I could react, he came whirling towards me in a succession of kicks. I barely had time to block it with my arms before the force knocked me back.

Blocking him, I leapt over him, bounding off the wall, my arms outstretched and ready to take him with my claw. To my shock, he vanished before my eyes and I landed on my feet to see him standing behind me. He knocked me in the back of the head before I could react. The blow was not quite enough to stun me and so I swept my leg under him, knocking him over before he could land another hit.

Using my claw's long reach, I swiped at him when he rose again. His skills were adept and he flipped backwards, away from my grasp.

I tucked my body and rolled forward, finally able to make a swipe at his chest.

With a cry, he began to spin, his kicks barreling towards me like a whirlwind. I took to the air once again, hoping to evade his attack. As I fell upon him, he jumped into the air, throwing his knives at me. I was able to dodge most them. One nearly nicked my precious face, if it was not for my mask, and another scraped against my shoulder.

Again, he came at me and I smirked. Clothed in black like the bulls I killed, I knew he was no different. With a dramatic spin, I evaded him. I punched at him, and quickly made another kick. He blocked but I could see his footing slipping as I barraged him with my attacks.

With a final sweep of my leg, he fell on his back and I held my claw at his throat, grinning beneath my mask.

"Do you yield?"

"You did well...for a _gaijin_." he said with a smirk, panting.

In one solid motion, he backflipped and knocked me back as he rose. I sat up on my arms and blinked in surprise.

I could see a hint of playfulness in his expression gleaming in his mysterious dark eyes. "You must be very tired from your journey. We can continue tomorrow. For now, you may rest."

I had barely noticed it was nightfall by the time we finished our fight. The building was almost pitch black except for the moon showing through the dusty windows.

" _Sensei_ , why are you in a building like this?" I said, my hesitation filling me as I thought of sleeping on the floor.

"You are expecting a _doujo_ , maybe?" he chuckled, "a ninja goes wherever. I have no need of such lodgings."

I chewed my lip and looked at my small alcove with the _tatami_ mat. There was a small pillow and some blankets. I was told that the Japanese slept in beds on the floor, however there was no mattress to be seen.

With a shrug and a sigh, I resigned myself to the location he had assigned me. I sat cross-legged on the floor, going through my bag. I had lobbied for a nice suitcase but Marc Antoní assured me such a luxury was not necessary here.

At the bottom, I found a picture of my mother and pulled it out. I intended it to be there, for as angry as I was, she was all I had; but as I held it, I could feel the bitterness welling up inside me and it spread to my hand, crumbling it in my grasp. I felt my jaw tense and exhaled through my nose as I stared at her. Maybe someday I could look at her again but...not now.

"I will not let you consume me, Victoria de Cerna. Not now, not ever. You will not stop me. I won't let you." I could feel hot angry tears welling in my eyes but I knew they could not fall. It did not matter now; I could feel everything burning up inside me, my guilt transforming into more anger. I was powerless to stop her and powerless to save her from herself but I knew _I_ was the one person I could save.

Quickly, I buried the photo under some clothes before I tore it up.

"Vega," said Geki and I looked up.

"You seem angry. Why?"

It seemed an obvious statement but since he was one of the few people I had ever met not aware of my situation, I realized he truly did not know.

"It is nothing. Family matters, that is all."

He crossed his arms and looked down thoughtfully at me.

"I have seen that anger before...but not in you. There are warriors here that harness their emotions like a weapon and it has nearly destroyed them, destroying those they love in the process. It is like a dark energy and it possesses them. Some call it the ' _Satsui no hadou'._ "

I furrowed my brows.

"In order to be an effective assassin, you must master your emotions."

"Yes, Marc Antoní has told me as much."

He smiled.

"Then, he has taught you half as well."

"Indeed. I suppose I will learn meditation then?"

"Naturally."

"You know, he also told me that if I use those emotions, they are very effective in fighting."

"Indeed they are! But if you do not control them, they will control _you._ No doubt he has also told you this?"

I rolled my eyes.

"Many times. I wanted to wipe that smirk of his right off of his face!"

"And did you succeed?"

I sighed.

"Occasionally, but he always got the better of me."

"That is because he knows."

"Knows what?"

"That your emotions are your weakness and as long as you continue to display them, they will continue to be so."

"Then what shall I do? Turn them off?"

He chuckled.

"No! That would be far worse. You must find balance within yourself. That I can help you with; you can use your emotions to your advantage when you can control them but not before."

I gave an exasperated sigh and laid down, tucking my hands behind my head.

"Very well."

He nodded and turned away from me. I felt a sharp pang under my rib as he threw a knife at my direction, narrowly missing my abdomen and nicking my shirt and embedding itself in the mat.

"And Vega, you must always be prepared." he said before vanishing in the darkness.

I waited for him to leave and sat there in the silence. I knew out there the city was alive. I saw only a small portion of it; the exotic signs written in Japanese, which I could barely read, the shops.

Creeping out of the building, I lept to the roof.

A cool breeze blew through my hair as I looked upon the twinkling lights of the city. Above, a full moon shone bright, the stars shining all around it.  
The same vexing signs as before lit up the town; Japanese held some mystery to me; the curve of each character, the stick straight lines written in an exotic code. I had only studied Japanese for a few months and it was rudimentary at best. Though I spoke many of the languages of my neighboring European countries, including being a native speaker in both Spanish and Catalan, I could not fathom that of the Asian tongue.

" _Doumo..._ " said a gruff voice and I whirled around to see Geki standing there. He greeted me in a rough manner, seemingly typical among the young Japanese men, despite my assurances how polite their society was. Given the casual manner he possessed, I inferred that he must have liked me to be so informal so quickly.

The breeze blew through a strand of his dark hair that hung in his face. His dark eyes sparkled like the stars around us. He gave me a wry smile.

" _Konbanwa,_ " he said.

I bowed slightly with my arms to my sides.

" _Konbanwa, Sensei._ " I replied.

"Did you think I would not find you?"

"Was I not to leave?"

He chuckled.

"Not at all. I was wondering when you might go out."

"It is too quiet in there, _Sensei._ I cannot think, I cannot sleep..."

He nodded silently; he seemed as thoughtful as I was at the moment.

"I have never seen fighting like you. How did you create it?" Geki asked after a moment.

I smirked and my chest swelled.

" _I_ was a _matador_...you know, a bullfighter... _'olé'_?"

" _Olé?_ " he repeated the Spanish phrase in his Japanese pronunciation, sounding queer to my ears—something closer to " _Oré_ ". I laughed with a nod.

"Something like that, yes."

" _Naruhodo ne_..." he said and it trailed off as if he was lost in thought again.

"Bullfighting must be very dangerous! I have heard of it."

"Yes, it is—but I have never been hurt! Not once." I grinned.

"You are...very _proud_ of yourself, aren't you?"

"But of course! Why shouldn't I be?"

Geki was silent, his mouth twisted into a sort of grimace for a moment, his brows furrowed and still I could see a thoughtfulness in his eyes.

"You are so young. How did you discover such a thing?"

"Well, bullfighting is quite popular in Spain. My 'step-father'…" I could feel my mouth cringing as I formed that word and I swallowed down the disgust rising in my throat, "He used to take me when I was very little to the fights. My mother did not like it, but we did. When I was around 10, I decided I wanted to become a famous matador and so, they enrolled me in a sort of school for bullfighters to train. At that age, you don't fight bulls of course. Rather, you practice on a dummy with another person. A couple years ago, they decided I was ready to participate in a fight and I joined a c _uadrilla_ —a squadron of bullfighters. I possessed great skill and agility, something needed to outwit a large beast. I am something of a celebrity back home because of it."

Geki nodded again, with his hand on his chin.

"And what about you? Have you been a ninja for a long time?"

"Since I was a child. I was raised in a village near Iga, at the base of Mount Fuji."

"Is that why you can vanish and reappear so quickly?"

He chuckled.

"It is not all knife throws and kicks. Ninja are skilled in the ways of diplomacy and espionage."

"Oh, you mean you manipulate people? I am a skilled liar; that my mother taught me, for she is the biggest liar of all."

"Then I am certain she taught you well." he replied, seemingly unmoved by my emotions.

"She _betrayed_ me." I said, my bitterness welling up inside me again.

"Women can be very shrewd."

"The sharpest knife of all."

"Vega—look out there. Do you see the city before you? That is your training ground."

"The whole city?" I exclaimed and he nodded.

"It is yours for the taking but you must not get caught. Ninjas do not get caught."

"Oh I won't." I smirked. "I never do."

 **GLOSSARY:**

 _Nante koto da yo?_ \- What the hell?!

 _Omae_ \- You...

 _Yappari ne_... - That's what I thought (informal)

 _Doumo_ \- Hello (informal)

 _Naruhoudo ne_ \- Is that right?

 _Konbanwa_ \- Good evening

 **TO BE CONTINUED...**


	2. Chapter 2

**DISCLAIMER/TRIGGER WARNING:**

 **This story contains content of a highly disturbing nature that may be offensive to some readers: including (but definitely not limited to): domestic abuse, rape, blood & gore, general violence, and torture. Please DO NOT read if you are likely to be offended! Vega's life is not a pretty picture!**

 **Vega & other Street Fighter characters owned by CAPCOM. Victoria de Cerna & Marc Antoní Gauldera belong to me.**

* * *

As the days and weeks passed, I learned more from Geki than in my life thus far. From him, I learned his secrets of speed and agility, adapting it to my own already quick moves. I was not able to vanish and reappear as he could, but I learned to move in the shadows and step softly almost as if I had.

I prowled through my urban jungle, jumping from rooftop to rooftop. The Japanese people did not notice me as I crept through the shadows. I had more freedom than ever—and it was _exhilarating_!

In the midst of such exhilaration however, Geki was keen on his promise to keep me on my toes by ambushing me while I went on my nightly missions. I remained undeterred and little by little, I could anticipate his moves and sense his presence.

It was one night during this time when Geki decided to reveal more of his life to me. We sat perched on a rooftop, overlooking the city.

"Geki sensei, why are you here?" I said and he looked me. "That is to say, what have you been _doing_ here?"

"What ninjas do." I rolled my eyes, and he sighed, staring off into the distance. "I once worked for the _Kanzuki Zaibatsu_."

"Who are they?"

"The most wealthy and powerful family in Japan—perhaps the world."

I smirked.

"I highly doubt they are as rich as _I_."

"They are a powerful financial conglomerate and having such power meant they needed security. For the first time since the Sengoku era, they wanted their own ninja force—they tracked me down and asked me to train new recruits. I did...for a time. Soon, they had no use for me and I for them. They have a daughter; she is very haughty and can be cruel. She is very proficient in her own style of martial arts and I had always wished to teach her a lesson."

"Is she pretty?" I asked, my eyes gleaming with excitement.

Geki scoffed, cracking his neck.

"You might say so. She is half Japanese so she has long blonde hair with brown eyes. She wears dresses that make her look like a doll but she is no fragile creature. Her beauty belies her strength."

I smirked.

"I wish to meet her."

"I do not know that you can handle Miss Kanzuki…" he said and I frowned at him. "But you can try." he smirked. "I can take you to their estate. They are always having parties."

"Hmmph. I know the feeling." I snickered and he looked at me.

"It's what we rich people _do_. I suspect it's because the rich have little else to do but throw boring parties and spend money."

"You do not like them?"

" _Sensei_ , if you had gone to parties all your life, you would hate them, too. They are _god-awful_ boring things, with all those social graces and putting on airs. My only refuge has been to take a girl to the corner somewhere and have my way with her. Otherwise, I would rather not go to such things."

"Do you still wish to meet Miss Kanzuki and teach her a lesson?"

"Yes."

"Then you will go."

" _Yosh!_ " I exclaimed, my eyes filled with excitement. Geki had a decidedly satisfied look on his face.

The Kanzuki Estate was very large, much larger than I expected at least. The mansion itself had traditional pagoda shaped roofs; white with brown trim.

Geki had easily slipped passed security, knowing where each guard was stationed on the property. We crouched upon the roof and looked down. Sure enough, there was a grand party out on the deck. People dressed in all manner of traditional and western clothing.

I spied a girl in a bright red dress. It was cut short at the knee and flared out with a petticoat. She had blonde hair curled into old-fashioned ringlets, held back with a blue bow at the back of her head. She also wore fingerless leather gloves, something I found somewhat odd. I knew _this_ had to be the Miss Kanzuki to which Geki had told me all about.

With a knowing nod at my teacher, I leapt forward, tucking my knees in and landing on my feet on the wooden deck. People gasped and I met her fiery gaze.

" _You!_ " she cried. "Who do you think you _are_ , crashing _my_ party?"

I chuckled from beneath my mask and slowly removed it, a tendril of blonde hair falling in my face.

"I am Vega de Cerna, son of Alberto and Victoria de Cerna. Nobleman from Barcelona...and you are Miss Kanzuki, I presume?"

"I don't care _who_ you are, _you_ are trespassing! But yes, I am Miss Karin Kanzuki." she gestured toward herself.

I crossed my legs in front of me and bowed with my arms out in a dramatic flourish.

"I am pleased to meet you, Miss Kanzuki. _Encantado_."

She folded her arms and scoffed at me.

" _Well!_ If you are such a gentleman, I would have thought you had manners!"

I lifted my head slowly to look at her and I shifted my weight as I stood again, hand on hip.

"And _you_ , Miss Kanzuki, who are you to question _my_ manners?"

"Do you know what I do to uncouth louts like you? Seems like I should teach you some after all!"

I put on my mask and took my stance. She raised her arms and took her stance.

Analyzing her body language, I knew she would make the first move. Her red dress fluttered in the evening breeze and an amusing thought entered my mind—I knew how to humiliate her _and_ bring this spoiled bitch to bay.

Miss Kanzuki began to charge at me but I kept my cool. Grabbing a white tablecloth from a nearby table, I waved it out in front of her as if she were a charging bull.

"Come, Miss Kanzuki! I will show you what kind of man I am." I smirked as I continued to wave the tablecloth at her.

Barreling towards me, I stepped to the side, causing her to run passed me and nearly fall forward, catching her momentum.

The shocked crowd of partygoers gasped and some let out muffled laughs, trying not to let her hear them. I laughed at her and she turned back to me with a growl.

" _No one_ humiliates a Kanzuki!" she cried.

"No one except _me_... and I intend to humiliate you more before this fight is through."

"Not if _I_ can help it! Didn't your mother teach you not to hit women?"

I folded my arms and threw my head back with another laugh, choosing to ignore the slight against my beloved mother.

"I am not afraid of a _little girl_ like you! You are a preening, weak creature and I will prove to you that's all you are. That's all _every_ woman is."

"Ha! Shows what you know, you bull-headed pig!" she spat.

With a flying leap, she kicked me in the head, knocking me back and before I could attack, she whirled around and elbowed me in the ribs, grabbing me by the wrist and flipping me over her shoulder. I felt the wind get knocked from my lungs as I was slammed onto the ground on my back.

The shock and pain ripped through me and I instinctively felt my mask to make sure that it was still secure on my face. To my relief it was, and so I flipped back up to my feet, ready to face her.

She let out a horrific cackle, bringing a hand to her mouth.

"What's the matter? Never been beaten by a _girl_ before?" she quipped.

"It's not over yet, _girly!_ " I hissed. " _¡Adelante!_ "

I flew towards her in one graceful leap, swiping my claw at her torso. She was quick enough to dodge my hit but I remained resolute in my promise.

Thrusting at her, I swiped at her face and she stepped back. I smiled from beneath my mask. I would corner her and she would be trapped with no place to go. The more she backed away, the more I swiped my claw and kicked her in the head and torso. She began to stagger and I swept my leg under her the closer I drew to her. Miss Kanzuki landed on her back but she did not cower, as I expected; fire gleamed in her dark eyes and her mouth twisted in a scowl.

She bounded back up to her feet, launching a quick succession of blows at me. Her palm connected with my chest and she whirled around to elbow me and I flew back, a powerful force one again knocking me on my back.

I recovered quickly, rolling forward and coming up to swipe her jaw with my claw. Before she could close the distance, I surveyed the nearest wall of the mansion, diving off of it, my arms outstretched, my claw pointed directly at her.

With a cry, I fell upon her, knocking her back once again. Miss Kanzuki flew back up, her fist connecting with my jaw and the force again knocked me spiraling into the wall. I slumped down against it, coughing and catching my breath. I rubbed the back of my head and I knew a knot would form later.

The spoiled little bitch sauntered over me to me, her hand on her hip and a haughty smirk on her face.

"Had enough, pretty boy? I _told_ you—nobody beats a Kanzuki!

I looked down to see my claws broken off and shattered. My hands shook with rage and I growled.

"You bitch! I am going to skin you!"

I steadied myself against the wall, slowly rising to my feet with a groan.

"Ha, try it!" she scoffed, folding her arms. I noticed one hand seemed to be covering a bleeding cut on her arm. I smiled to myself, carefully watching the blood drip on the ground.

"Aww! Poor little rich bitch is bleeding!" I snickered.

"Hmmph! It's nothing. We Kanzukis are not afraid of a little blood! _You_ , on the other hand...seem to be bleeding profusely!"

I looked down at myself and stifled a gasp. Exhaling, I was relieved to find that I only had minor cuts on my chest and arms and I ran my hand over my mask, wiping the blood spatter from it, shaking off my hand in disgust.

I swaggered towards her, smirking proudly and folded my arms.

"It is not _mine_ , Miss Kanzuki."

She groaned and fell to her knees.

"Are you feeling weak, my dear? Do you feel dizzy as the blood pours from your wounds?" I sneered.

"Kanzuki sama!" cried a Japanese man with dark hair and glasses and a suit that looked as if he were her butler. He rushed to her side, taking her by the shoulders and leaning her body against his.

"Shibasaki!" she wailed.

"We must get you help right away, miss." he urged.

"Shi-Shibasaki," she stammered, "It is only a little cut. Bring me my medic kit! _Now_ , Shibasaki san!" she hissed. Dropping her gently to her knees, he gave a short, hasty bow.

"Ha-hai, Kanzuki sama!" and he ran off quickly, disappearing into the mansion.

She sat there on the ground, continuing to hold her wounded arm, giving me an evil glare. I chuckled at her.

"Weak! Weak little girl can't lick her wounds so her _butler_ does it for her!"

Miss Kanzuki continued to stare daggers at me, a look I had grown so accustomed to in my life, it did not even phase me.

"I learned how to tend to my own wounds from the day I was born! I never let the _help_ touch me, such _filthy_ creatures!" I chuckled with disgust.

"Weak girls like you don't deserve to fight me! You do not even deserve to touch me!"

"Vega!" yelled a stern voice.

I whirled around to see Geki drop down from the roof behind me.

"Geki!" she exclaimed and I could see her seething with anger.

"I _fired_ you! How did you get passed my guards?" she hissed.

"The girls were taken care of quite easily." he replied, and I could see him smiling from beneath his mask.

"How dare you?" Miss Kanzuki cried struggling to rise to her feet as she held her arm. "Do you know much money security costs here? I will not let you put my guests in danger!"

"In fact, I _do_ know how much your ninja girls cost—the same sum you failed to pay _me_ before you dismissed me!" his voice rose angrily. "I have no intention of harming your guests; I have more honor than that. _You_ , on the other hand…"

She grimaced and groaned, still struggling to stand.

"You bastard!" she screamed at him and her guests let out a collective gasp.

"You were always a spoiled brat! But...you need not worry, Kanzuki chan. I have already gotten my payment." he replied, patting a bag tied on his hip. "I only wished to humiliate you as you humiliated me and it looks as though my protege has done a good job!" He patted my shoulder and I grinned proudly.

"Your father was right—you do not deserve to run the _Kanzuki Zaibatsu_." he growled and then he glanced at me. "Vega san, _iku yo_!" he commanded and I nodded. Turning, we leapt up to the roof and disappeared into the night.


	3. Chapter 3

**DISCLAIMER/TRIGGER WARNING:**

 **This story contains content of a highly disturbing nature that may be offensive to some readers: including (but definitely not limited to): domestic abuse, rape, blood & gore, general violence, and torture, bad language. Please DO NOT read if you are likely to be offended! Vega's life is not a pretty picture!**

 **Vega & other Street Fighter characters owned by CAPCOM. Victoria de Cerna & Marc Antoní Gauldera belong to me.**

 _Whoa! Forgive the long chapter, but I hope this makes up for my absence. Enjoy the story, everybody!_

* * *

The months passed again and soon, spring gave way to summer. The sweltering Japanese heat and its humidity were enough to make me sweat to death. I suppose my summers I spent on the beaches of Barcelona and along the coast of Andalucía were nothing compared to this.  
The shrill buzz of the cicadas nearly deafened me and I wondered how Japanese people stayed sane in the summertime.

Geki suggested we move to the countryside. Though the droning of the cicadas were not any quieter there, with in fact, several decibels _louder_ it seemed, he assured me the Kanzuki clan would not pursue us there. After taking his claim, he knew the wrath of the entire Kanzuki estate was upon him and since he had trained the ninjas himself, he knew they were formidable.

We moved into the mountains, surrounded by lush, cool forests. The peace and quiet was as foreign to my ears as the sounds of the city. He brought me to a small hut; I assumed this was where he lived. We seemed miles away from anyone.

Geki and I sat outside, cross-legged; he twirled the tip of his dagger into the palm of his hand and a gentle breeze blew through our hair.

"So, is this where we will mediate?" I asked one day.

He chuckled.

"Is that what you think this is?" he sighed. "While that is one part of it, that is not why I brought you here."

"Then, _why_ Geki sensei?"

"I do not wish the Kanzuki clan to find us and here they will not."

It was my turn to chuckle and I folded my arms.

"So, you are running from a bunch of angry women?"

He lifted his head to look at me.

"Have you learned nothing from your defeat?"

My eyes widened.

"Defeat?" I exclaimed. "I won! I beat that prissy girl fair and square!"

"And if I had not intervened? What would you have done after she tended her wounds?"

"After? What do you mean? She was weak! She could hardly stand when I was done!"

"She broke your claw and could have easily shattered your precious mask. That girl has more power than any girl I've ever seen! Miss Kanzuki has been training since she was even younger than she is now. I have never seen a girl work so hard!"

"She's weak!" I growled. "Weak! Women are weak, pitiful creatures who shriek at the sight of their own blood and I swear, I _will_ make her bleed again!"

He chuckled with a sigh and shook his head.

"Someday you will learn and I promise you will not enjoy it."

"No, _she_ will learn and _I_ will be the one to enjoy it. She will learn her place. Women are only good for _one_ thing and one thing alone. There is nothing else they should be doing."

"And...what is that?" Geki implored, his eyebrows cocked and I knew he knew the answer.

I scoffed and rolled my eyes.

"You _know._ "

"I have never met anyone as ruled by their passions as you."

"You trained Marc Antoní Gauldera, did you not?"

"Indeed, but even he conceded defeat by his betters and mastered himself."

I scoffed again.

"He? He has far less control of his emotions than I do, that I know! I suppose you think that he is better than I am!"

"So you admit it, _ne_?" he grinned.

"I was being sarcastic!" I hissed. "What?" I blinked, caught off guard by his vexed expression.

"Oh, you—wait, never mind." I grumbled. I was in no mood to explain myself; the intricacies of Western speech were lost on the Eastern mind—sarcasm, that is.

"I am _bored_! There is nothing to do. No one to fight—but _you_."

"Then I shall have to keep you entertained." Geki replied, his eyes gleaming.

* * *

Geki was nothing if not persistent at keeping me on my guard at all times. I spent many nights alone in the dark with nothing but the moon to light my way. I listened to the wind in the trees and the chirping of insects and birds. My hearing seemed to be sharpened at night and I had no fear of the dark. I knew there were no people for miles around, except some distant village where the people kept to themselves.

Strangely, I felt a kind of peace there. I did not expect to feel such a way, being alone. I had never truly been alone my entire life and though it was a strange feeling, I began to grow accustomed to it out in the wilderness. Here, I had nothing but my thoughts to keep me company. My memories of past events sometimes crept out like the shadows around me, but I was quick to dismiss them; and among them, my mother became a distant, clouded memory the more I became focused on my training.

I became more self-reliant than I had ever been, clad in shadows and moving through the forest like the wind in the trees. I moved freely around the forest, practicing my attacks and sparring with Geki sensei whenever I had the chance.

It was on one of these days while I was in the forest, I came to a clearing with a small waterfall and a pool. I saw 2 men splashing water on themselves and each other; one was clearly Japanese. He had a very muscular build and short dark hair; the other was a Westerner of some sort, fair skin and long blonde hair that hung in a loose ponytail down his back. They were both shirtless but the Japanese man wore white _gi_ pants and the Westerner wore vibrant red.

They were oblivious to my existence as I watched them from above in my perch among the trees. They were happily laughing and talking and I could see they must have been friends. I could not hear all of what they were saying but I could hear their tone of voice. The Westerner seemed to be speaking some form of English, though by his accent I came to the unfortunate conclusion that he was... _an American._ I could all but hide my disgust at the thought; his companion sounded as if he spoke in Japanese, his friend speaking back to him in English as if there were no barrier at all.

I put my mask on and drew my hood up around my head. I decided it was time to say hello.

I dropped down to the ground, landing squarely on my feet before the 2 boys. They whirled around, their arms raised in a fighting stance when they saw me.

"What the hell?" exclaimed the American.

" _Nante koto da?_ " echoed his Japanese friend.

"Yeah, you said it, buddy!" drawled the blonde. "Who the hell are you and where did you come from?"

I chuckled.

"I am...everywhere..." I said, using my best English, and I gestured with my hands.

"You're...you're not Japanese..." said the American in his peculiar accent.

I laughed.

"No...but, neither are you!"

"Hey! Shows what you know, pal! I'm _half!_ "

I raised my eyebrows and studied his features a moment; he had dark brown eyes framed by rather bushy dark long eyebrows with his almond eyes showing the features of his Japanese heritage rested upon his smooth, clear, clean-shaven face. His long blonde hair was of the bleached sort and it was nearly as long as my own, tied back with a long red ribbon. There was something shining back at me in his fierce dark eyes that I could not deny and yet, I found him handsome-to say the least.

I smirked from beneath my mask and folded my arms.

"Hmm. So you are."

"So, are you gonna take off your mask or...are you too ugly?" said the handsome blonde with a smirk. His tenacity was almost a shock but being nothing but an uncouth American, I had come to expect it from him. His vulgarity did little to detract from his good looks, however.

"As you wish."

I pushed back my hood and removed my mask. I could not help to be pleased at his inevitable expression as he saw my handsome face. His eyes widened and his jaw dropped; his Japanese friend was no different.

"Does my beauty intoxicate you?"

The blonde American let out a frustrated growl.

"Just who the fuck are you anyway?"

"I am Vega Fabio de Cerna i la serda, _Grandee de España_ -" his eyes glazed for a moment and I chuckled. "But you may call me Vega, if it pleases you."

He rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, ok, dude. Whatever. I'm Ken Masters and this is my friend, Ryu."

Ryu folded his arms and nodded. I could tell he was a quiet man but his gleaming eyes told me all I needed to know.

" _Charmed._ " I growled.

"So, what the fuck do you want, Ve-ga?" snickered Ken, putting an unnecessary accent on my given name.

"Since you so _eloquently_ asked, I am studying _ninjutsu_ under Master Geki in the mountains not far from here and I saw you two."

"Geki?" exclaimed Ken and he looked at Ryu with a scowl. "Spying on us, huh?'

"You know of him?" I asked, seeing their flustered faces.

"Hmmph! You could say that." snickered Ken and Ryu gave a disapproving growl.

"Anyone who serves Geki is no good! Fight me!" exclaimed Ken, raising his fists. I stepped back involuntarily. "Put 'em up, pretty boy!"

I had the sudden urge to break all of his pretty white teeth from his pretty mouth.

"Pretty boy? You dare to call me one? Typical American!" I spat. I could not deny how handsome he was, though it was a far different beauty than Remy's or even my own.

There was something there that I could not deny, whether it be the fact that he was a blonde with long hair like mine, or the fact he was a foreigner as I was. I could not be certain. "Although...you are the prettiest American boy I have ever seen…" I smirked.

"What are you, man? Switch-hitter or somethin'?" he and Ryu burst into laughter. Some crude American reference, no doubt.

He rolled his eyes. "Come on, man! Or are you just talk?" he persisted.

I slipped my mask back on.

"You must be in love with death!"

"Ha, _right._ Like your kitty claws scare me! Fight me, ' _Don Quixote_ ' _._ "

" _Vale…_ " I said, circling them closely and taking position. It was clear to me he was as eager as I was to prove himself and at that I would oblige him-even if it meant his death. Ryu stood beside him, fists raised and equally ready to fight beside his friend. It mattered not to me; they would both perish if they wished it.

" _¡Adelante!_ "

I swiped towards Ken with my claw and he easily dodged my attack with a chuckle. Ryu barreled towards me now, punching at me and kicking. I threw my arms up and blocked his attack, back-flipping and easily throwing the 2 boys backwards, the water splashing as they hit.

Ken growled, running at me again and I threw my arms up, anticipating his attack. This time however, I had no time to react as he began to spin in the air, whirling kicks at me and hitting me square in the chest.

" _Tatsumaki Senpukyaku!_ " he cried, the force of his kicks knocking me back.

I did not let it slow me down, however, and I rolled myself forward on the ground, my claw aimed at his legs. I knocked Ken off his feet while Ryu jumped and evaded my attack. I jumped up, hitting Ryu in the shoulder. Ken stood up slowly, his legs bleeding with deep cuts and turning the water red. I landed gracefully on my feet. Confident in my power, I was not about to let them out-do me.

Their chests heaving, they took position again, each one circling around me-Ken in front of me and Ryu behind, his already tattered white sleeveless _gi_ stained with blood from deep gashes on his chest and shoulder.

I turned slowly, sizing them both up as they surrounded me.

My eyes widened as they both put their palms out, Ryu's glowed with a fiery orange energy and Ken's with a blue one. I learned from Remy well and I knew if their energy hit me at the same time, there would be no getting out of it.

" _Hadouken!_ " they cried.

Flying into the air, I aimed towards a thick trunk of a tree, bounding off of it, my arms outstretched as I flew through the air with a cry. I aimed myself at Ken, tackling him before his shot came out, I punched his face with my right hand and swiped at him with the left. Ryu's fiery ball of energy surged passed my ear. To my surprise, he grabbed me, rolling backwards and throwing me with his foot.

" _Hyah!_ "

I landed in the water face first with a heavy splash. The force temporarily forced the air from my lungs but a ninja must not hesitate and I did not, rising to my feet quickly before either of them could get in another blow.

"Asshole!" Ken panted, spitting out blood, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

I laughed and dove into the air once more. I was content to make him bleed. I failed however, to anticipate Ryu's moves as he too jumped into the air, his fist connecting with my jaw.

" _Shoryuken!_ " he exclaimed.

Mask or not, hitting my face was unforgivable. I would have to teach this stoic Japanese boy a lesson before I got back to maiming the pretty-boy American.

I fell from the air like a dying sparrow but I landed on my feet, something I learned quickly from my ninja training. The splash as he landed soaked me and I laughed at him.

"Disappointed?" I sneered, switching to Japanese.

He grunted his disapproval, his bushy eyebrows scowling back at me and I laughed.

"Now, I am going to make you pay! You will _bleed_ your atonement for me." and I walked towards him, my clawed hand outstretched towards the pulsing vein in his neck.

"No fucking way!" cried Ken, flying at me again. "I am going to _hadouken_ you all the way back to...to where ever it is you came from!" I sniggered.

"Fat, lazy, American pig! Your greed is your undoing. You Americans think you are _so_ special when you can't even point to another country on a map! How crude. You are just more ripe for the slaughter! I am going to slaughter you both, and purify this beautiful Japanese wilderness with your blood! I will free it yet from your corruption! I pity Ryu for befriending you; now, he is dripping with your poison."

I motioned them forward with my hand.

"Come, then. Come to your slaughter! Maybe I will be merciful...but, then again...perhaps not."

"You crazy son of a bitch! Who do you think you are?" hissed Ken.

I smirked.

"Your death."

I grabbed Ryu by his _gi_ and he began to form an energy ball in his hands.

"Enough!" roared a voice. I released Ryu and we all turned towards the sound.

An old man stood at the edge of the pond. He was balding on the top of his head with long white hair, a big white beard, and he wore a black _gi_ top and white pants with a belt fashioned out of rope; he also wore what I assumed were large prayer beads around his neck. Though he was elderly I could see that he was well-built and he took good care of his physique despite his advanced age.

" _Sensei_!" Ken and Ryu replied in union, kneeling before him.

The old man waded in the water towards us and the two fighters kept their heads bowed.

"What is this?" the old man growled. I stood rigidly, my hands at my sides, not bowing, not moving.

"I leave you to practice your forms and what do I find you two doing? Fighting? With this... _ninja_ rabble?" the disdain was clear in his voice.

" _Sensei, hontou ni gomennasai._ " replied Ryu in a low voice and his teacher sighed.

"Ken, Ryu, _tattekudasai!_ "

" _Hai._ " they replied in unison, standing and bowing.

"And _you_ , outsider, go back to your master! Geki is waiting!"

I heard a splash and looked behind me to see Geki.

"And you, Gouken _sensei_ , who are you to denounce my student?"

"Ninja filth!" the old man spat. "Is this how you let your students behave?"

Geki stood beside me and folded his arms.

"I am sorry for the disruption of your students, Gouken _sensei_ , but I am afraid I cannot vouch for his behavior; he is a _gaijin_ and he will not learn."

My jaw hung open and his eyes narrowed at me.

"Perhaps I should let Ken teach him a lesson, then! He is only _half_ Japanese but behaves as a proper student…"

"Let me show him, _Sensei_!" exclaimed Ken, eagerly stepping forward.

"Silence, Ken,"

"I do not need to be taught anything by _you_ , pretty boy." I hissed.

"Shut up, Vega!" hissed Geki.

"Hey I told you, Pal, I don't swing that way!"

"Enough, Ken!" growled his master.

Geki grinned, a grin that looked like it might hurt his face.

"And how long did it take you to train his arrogant American ways out of him?"

Gouken grumbled, rubbing the back of his head and sighed.

"Longer than it should have, but Ryu was a good influence on him."

"Gouken sensei, I am truly sorry for this disruption. Return to your dojo and we will not bother you again. Vega, _iku yo_." said Geki, turning to me with a sharp glare.

* * *

We returned home and there was a heavy silence.

"You must be proud of yourself." Geki said, turning to me. I read his dark eyes and they flashed, his jaw set and he frowned.

"You are upset at me, _Sensei_?" I asked, shifting my weight and folding my arms. "Why?"

" _Gaijin dakara…_ "

"Oh no, you do not get to blame the fact that I am a foreigner on me!" I hissed.

"It is clear to me, Vega, that you are...un-teachable."

"Un-teachable?" I cried, my voice rising. "What does that even mean?"

He grunted and shook his head.

"You have been…difficult." he replied, tilting his head with some hesitation.

I snickered.

"Is that all? I have always been difficult, Sensei."

"I have let you disrespect me so far. It is part of the process between student and teacher but, I would have never allowed you to be so disrespectful from an elder."

"They disrespected you! And that old man-"

"That old man," he interjected, "knows more in a single punch than you will in your lifetime!"

"He disrespected you, Sensei-and _me_."

" _Me!_ Me me me! That is all you speak of. Is there no one else in this world?"

I chewed my lip, clenching my fists and my chest tightened. Oh, there _was_ all right, but as long as I was in _this_ world, I would never speak her name again.

" _Sou sou. Yappari ne._ " he smirked.

"You are not perfect, Sensei! You blame everything on me being a foreigner when there is plenty at fault here!"

His dark eyes widened and the smirk left his face.

"Perhaps _you_ should take a better look at the world! Not all foreigners are the same...or do we just all look alike?" I accused.

" _Baka gaijin!_ " he spat, "I was a fool for even considering to do this! Get out of my sight, or I _will_ kill you." he replied, turning away.

"Asshole!" I yelled.

It was not customary for me to swear, though I suppose given the situation, it seemed right. Remy had more of an influence on me than I thought, such word being his moniker.

I decided I was going to get out of here, one way or another. There had to be a village nearby, and thus a phone.

I wandered through the dense, deep forest unafraid. Every creak of every branch, and crunch of every leaf, I stood ready to fight.

I heard a noise behind me, whirling around and ready to fight. I assumed it was Geki ambushing me again.

"Show yourself!" I commanded in Japanese, looking all around.

"Gauldera!" I cried.

My mentor stood before me, dressed in the same dark uniform that I wore, his mask hanging loosely around his neck. He smiled and folded his arms in his customary way.

"Surprised to see me, boy?" he drawled. No matter how he spoke, it seemed his voice always dripped with malice, nearly masked by a warmth shining in his green eyes.

"What are you doing here? You are a-a _ninja_?" I cried.

"I am...a lot of things." he said in his usual enigmatic way. "Besides, I said I would check in on you and I couldn't resist seeing how my best pupil has fared in the hands of Master Geki. I see his rough country boy ways have rubbed off on you. Do you always address people so crudely in Japanese?"

I sighed and rubbed the back of my head.

"I am no country boy, but he is the only one to teach me Japanese. Besides, his English is just as crude."

Marc Antoni laughed heartily at my response.

"Geki speaks fine English...when he wishes. His xenophobia always left a bad taste in my mouth though."

"How is my mother?" I asked, my arms folded and shifting my weight on my hips. Though I had no intention of ever speaking of her again, it seemed my lips had betrayed me.

"Are you sure you want to know? This seems hardly the place and I wouldn't want you to lose focus on your...training."

" _Damn_ the training! _Damn_ Geki! How is she, Gauldera? Tell me now!" I hissed.

Marc Antoni gave a heavy sigh and I saw the same mournful look on his face from before.

"She is really no better since you left. Her depression only grew; she blames herself as she believes she's lost you for good."

"You said you would take care of her!" I snapped.

"And I have given her the best that money can buy!"

"You left her alone!" I cried. "I will kill you, old man!"

"You know, I realize that such a term is merely an expression but, do you not remember that I am close to your mother's age? Or have you failed to see the fine lines growing on her face? You would never win, that I am sure. You are good but not as good as me."

"I killed Miguel! I can do it again." I said coldly.

"But I did no such thing, Vega! She is _not_ alone. But do you really think I have time to look after her when I have to be here? I must continue my business here and if I left, you could never get home."

"What does that mean?" I spat back.

"You are only here because you are supposed to be here. You have no other way of leaving this country without _me_."

"You bastard!" I screamed. "You can leave me here all you wish! But how could you let her suffer? She was your responsibility—you _promised_ —and a true nobleman never breaks his word!"

"How could I _possibly_ help a woman who _refuses_ to take responsibility for _herself_?"

I balled my fists tight.

"God in heaven, I hate you! I am going to kill you, old man...if it's the last thing I do!"

True to form, he only smiled at me.

"If you ever try, it will be the last thing you do. I promise."

"Without her, I am dead anyway. I would see you suffer for all the pain she is in."

"Even if I am not to blame?"

"But you are, always have been. I am certain of it."

"Suit yourself. If it is one thing I have learned, I cannot change your mind. And may I point out that _you_ are the one who mentioned her in the first place?"

"No, no you can't. Not ever. Don't you ever talk about her again! I don't want to hear about her, I don't want to think about her." I chewed my lip and sighed, debating about whether or not I should tell him about my current situation.

"Fine. What is it, boy?"

I growled in frustration.

"Geki threw me out." I declared unceremoniously.

His green eyes widened for a moment and then he laughed.

"Well, you certainly lasted longer than I thought you would!"

My chest tightened and my jaw set.

"Hey! I was defending his honor! Isn't that what a good student does?"

"I think you'll find that Geki needs no defending. Besides, he does not play by the rules. Now, how could that have possibly happened way out here?"

"I was training one day and I came across two boys practicing karate by a lake. One was an American and he picked a fight with me."

He scoffed.

"Yes, he does sound American... but uh, what were they doing out here?"

"Apparently, they live with their master up here in the mountains, training."

Marc Antoní moved his hand to his chin in thought.

"Master Gouken?"

"Yes!" I cried and he shook his head.

"Oh dear." I furrowed my brows in frustration.

"What?"

"That is one fight you should have stayed out of! Gouken and Geki are rivals; fierce rivals and they _hate_ each other."  
"How was I to know that? Geki never told me anything! Only to go out and explore, practice my forms."

"Well, sometimes, the greatest lessons you learn by yourself. Geki is not so hands on, you noticed?"

I gave a wry smile.

"Yes. I still do not understand why I am here."

"Well, I was hoping you had figured that out by now, but oh well…" I growled under my breath.  
"I sent you to him because I believe in your power. I knew trying to teach you anything would be nearly impossible, but it was worth a try."

"If you thought I was _that_ bad, you should have never brought me here!" I hissed, my anger welling up in my throat, my fists clenching.

He laughed and it did nothing quell my anger.

"Vega, you are _not_ bad. Do you not see?"

"What?" I cried.

"You are powerful, boy. Very powerful. You survived Geki's attacks and you were able to best him, I'm told. He is a skilled ninja and not many can say the same."

"Yes, he took out the Kanzuki estate. I helped him."

"Did you now? If that does not convince you of your power, what will?"

I folded my arms and shifted my weight.

"I guess. Only…"

"Only?"

"I've failed."

"No, you haven't. It simply means you are ready to move onto the next phase."

"What phase?" I questioned.

His green eyes gleamed like his beaming smile.

"Your life."

I cocked my head. His enigmatic responses drove me crazy.

With that, we began to walk through the forest towards a clearing and towards some sort of civilization.

 **GLOSSARY:**

 _nante koto da yo_ \- What the hell?! (Japanese)  
 _vale_ \- OK (Spanish)

 _¡Adelante! -_ Come at me! (Spanish)  
 _sou sou Yappari ne_ \- Yeah yeah, I figured as much. (Japanese)  
 _gaijin dakara_ \- Because you're foreign... (Japanese)

 _Sensei, hontou ni gomennasai -_ I'm sorry, teacher. (Japanese) _  
tattekudasai_ \- Stand up! (Japanese)

 _baka gaijin_ \- stupid foreigner (Japanese)


	4. Chapter 4

So sorry for the late update! Life's been crazy lately. Enjoy the story!  
Thanks, **Vammy** for always supporting me!

 **DISCLAIMER/TRIGGER WARNING:**

 **This story contains content of a highly disturbing nature that may be offensive to some readers: including (but definitely not limited to): domestic abuse, rape, blood & gore, general violence, and torture, bad language. Please DO NOT read if you are likely to be offended! Vega's life is not a pretty picture!**

 **Vega & other Street Fighter characters owned by CAPCOM. Victoria de Cerna & Marc Antoní Gauldera belong to me.**

* * *

Marc Antoní's Tokyo penthouse was unlike anything I had ever seen before, with its thoroughly modern interior. We were miles up, looking out over the city through mirrored windows. Inside it was just as spacious, with quite a few rooms. Not as many as my mansion, but enough to keep me away from him during my stay.

It was decorated in the latest modern fashion, with its minimalist white walls, black and white furniture, art deco lamps, abstract art, frosted glass partitions, and random fixtures of neon lighting hanging on the walls. There was a large black bar, housing a selection of drinks and red stools. The floor was a gleaming white marble, cold and pristine, just like the man himself. It was quite a contrast from the old world charm of his mansion in France.

I sighed, sitting with my legs stretched out across the arms of one of his big white chairs in the living room. I studied a strand of my hair and picked through my long blonde braid.

"Do you not have anything better to do in my home than to primp your hair?" said Marc Antoní with his grin, sitting down on his black sofa, a gleaming black coffee table in front of him. He sat down a mirrored tray with what appeared to be a selection of recreational drugs-none of which surprised me coming from him-doing drugs seemed to be an international pastime among the rich and aristocratic these days; doing coke was considered _de rigueur_ among them.

"Being out in the wilderness for months on end was murder on my hair!" I frowned.

He reclined back, crossing his leg over his knee wearing the latest white suit and a light blue shirt. He wore loafers with no socks and I wondered where he was getting his fashion.

"Do you know, I have a stylist who could work wonders on your hair! He has a hot oil treatment he swears by."

I rolled my eyes, continuing to fuss at my hair.

"Since when do _you_ care about my hair?"

He laughed.

"It was just a suggestion. Once again, you are a guest in my home, whether I like it or not, but I _always_ treat my guests well."

I rolled my eyes again; another one of his lies, if I had ever heard one.

"Would you like anything, by the way?" he said, gesturing towards the tray of drugs. I looked over at him and scowled in disgust.

He poured a glass of Spanish sherry, sitting it on the table.

"Would you like some?"

"I don't generally like to have coke with my sherry." I snickered. "I would never tarnish my body with the likes of that."

"Suit yourself." he said with a grin, beginning to cut some lines of coke on the tray and sniffing it. He sat up and wiped his nose with his fingers.

"Would you like some sherry then? It's the best sherry in Spain! I imported it just so I could have it here."

It was difficult to resist the temptation of having anything from my home country; I nodded.

"Yes, I would, in fact. I can't remember the last time I had anything from Spain."

His face brightened with his gleaming eyes and he happily poured me a glass.

" _Salud!_ " he toasted.

"And if you are hungry, I can have my chef make you anything you like. I flew Guillermo all the way from Spain as well; he knows all the best Spanish cuisine and he's even good with sushi."

"You imported him with the sherry, did you?"

Marc Antoní laughed.

"I see you are already in better spirits for having been here."

My palette had adapted to French food and now, Japanese.

I slowly sipped the wine, savouring its familiar taste as it flowed down my throat.

It had been ages it seemed since I had anything from my home country, although in reality, it had only been a year since my journey began in this new land-and more than 2 since we fled Spain.

We sat there in silence, enjoying our wine. There was no tension between us but, I knew it would be a matter of time before I was angry with him again-and as expected, I did not have to wait long.

"You've really grown since I saw you last," he said finally between sips of wine.

"Grown? Hardly. I'm the same tall height I was the last time."

"Indeed. How old are you now? 17, 18?"

" _Nineteen._ " I replied with a grimace.

He chuckled heartily with a nod.

"So you are. January 27th? You are nearly a man."

I narrowed my eyes at him.

"I _am_ a man." I asserted.

"You misunderstand me. Next year you will be 20. You see, 20 is the age of adulthood in Japan. It is a sacred age, and in the eyes of the country, you will be a man."

I scoffed and rolled my eyes.

"In _my_ country, I already am a man! What do I care about _this_ country?"

He sighed.

"I know that your birthdays have not been pleasant for you…"

"Spare me."

"When you become a man in Japan, there is no experience like it. We will have a celebration like nothing you've had before."

I chuckled and sipped my wine, staring into space.

"Indeed."

"But...I can see none of this impresses you. Let's go out."

I turned to him and he tilted his head.

"Ah, I got your attention."

"So what of going out?" I said, sitting forward.

"I assume you like discotheques, don't you?"

I chuckled.

"I do on occasion. What else to do in Barcelona but drink wine, sleep, and party?"

"Such truer words never spoken by a Spaniard! Your parents and I would have outrageously late dinner and party all night at the best clubs."

"I have no doubt…" I muttered.

He clapped his hands.

"So! Shall we? I know all the best nightlife that Tokyo has to offer! Tonight, I shall make you a man of the world."

I had to wonder yet again what he meant. He seemed to determined to make me just as worldly as he was-something which repulsed and intrigued me all at once.

"If you insist."

We arrived in front of a club illuminated with a bright neon sign that I could not read.

A Japanese man stood there, guarding the door. He wore a suit, his black hair combed back into a wave, shining with pommade.

Marc Antoní said a few brief words to him in Japanese and with an acknowledging grunt, the man let us in.

It was a dimly lit place with booths and tables. I looked to see no dance floor in sight and I frowned.

"Where is the dance floor?" I asked.

He chuckled, taking a seat in a boot and I sat next to him.

"Not that kind of club, I'm afraid."

"Then why'd we come?"

"I figured before you danced, you'd like to soak up some atmosphere first...and maybe some Japanese liquor."

I sighed and rolled my eyes.

"What makes you think that?" I replied, resting my chin in my hand, looking around.

Across from us in an adjacent booth sat a group of Japanese people. Men in suits, some wearing sunglasses, their heavily oiled hair standing in a high pompadour on their heads. They had their arms around women in tight dresses.

"Careful where you look, my boy."

"Why?"

"Those men are _Yakuza_... _powerful_ Japanese gangsters."

"They don't scare me, Marc Antoní."

"Well, they should. They control most of Japan today. They're not like other countries where their mafia stays in the shadows. Everyone in Japan knows of them, they are both feared and in some cases, respected. Some say they've done more for Japan than the government themselves."

I chuckled and he handed me a glass of Japanese whiskey. I was not fond of it but I was keen to try it.

The liquid hit my mouth and I could not help but to cringe. He laughed heartily at me.

"So whiskey is not to your liking, I see. Very well. I will get you some red wine."

"That's the nicest thing you've done so far."

"Yes well, heed my advice, Vega. Be careful and do not interfere with them. If you ever get involved with them, even _I_ cannot save you."

"You have had dealings with them, then?"

"More than that. They are highly lucrative business men! I am in the middle of a deal now that could secure the entire future for my associate."

"That syndicate? Shadowlaw?"

"Shh! Mind your mouth, boy!" his green eyes flashed and I smirked.

"Whatever. They can't even understand us. And if you're not going to take me out, I am leaving." I declared.

"And where do you think you're going? You have not yet learned your way around this city."

"I have learned more than you think. Geki taught me the ways of the city. I will not need a map where I am going."

"Remember what I told you and heed my advice. Those men are not so hard to spot when you know where to look. They are often missing their ring fingers, sometimes more, and are _covered_ in tattoos."

I scoffed.

"I'll remember. They must've bought up the entire market in pommade!"

He sighed and took a swig of his drink and I rose to leave.

I had the driver take me back to the apartment. There, I found my training garb and my claw and mask. This was my playground.

I roamed the rooftops, jumping from building to building, the neon lights washing the blackness of the city in rainbows of color. I watched the digital marquees lit up on buildings flashing bulletins in pixelated characters, thousands of people it seemed, crossing the street like a never-ending stream. Cars patiently waited in their queues as the people passed.  
It seemed that this was a city that did not sleep and I came alive then, immersed in it.

I watched as bubbly Japanese women passed, smelling their scent from my vantage. One wore an off-the-shoulder top, showing off what little of cleavage she had, her slender hips hugged by a tight short skirt, her long curly black hair done up in a ponytail to the side of her head.  
As alluring as her features might be, I felt no immediate urge to take her-or her friend, for that matter. No, tonight, I needed something more.

I continued on my prowl, silently watching the city as it passed beneath me.

Just then, I heard a commotion below; I looked down into a dark alleyway where there were 3 men arguing, it seemed. Two of the men wore suits, facing the other man who was dressed a little more casually. Carefully, I peered down closer and I could see the 2 men in suits held guns on the other man. I smirked to myself; this was just too good to be true!

I had not had a decent fight in months and the fact that they possessed guns did not deter me from my mission.

Swiftly I dropped down upon them, my claw slashing their victim's throat, his warm blood splattering upon me, and in quick succession, I drew my claw on the throat of one of the gunmen, his blood too showering me. I was thankful to be shielded in my mask, my body swathed in my ninja garb.

As I slowly rose to my feet, the last gunman stood before me, a particularly ugly specimen; his nose was crooked and looked as if it had been broken many times, and his skin blemished with scruff growing around his face, the man's black hair was combed back into a wavy pompadour, glistening with pommade just like the hairstyle of his comrade, his dark almond eyes glistened with fear and fury. His hand shook as his gun pointed at me but I was not afraid.

One swift kick, I knocked the gun from his hand, knocking him back. Undeterred, he drew a knife and I knocked that out of his hand as well.

Trembling, he wiped his bleeding lip, crouched down on his hands and knees. His weapons lay nearby but with my claw pointing at his throat, I knew he dare not move.

He screamed what sounded like a name and I looked down.  
I crouched down and beheld my work, the puddles of blood surrounding me, its smell warm and thick in the air.

He continued to scream, reaching towards his fallen comrade.

He stammered in Japanese.

"Who-who are you? Who do you work for?"

I smirked and I slowly removed my mask, my long blonde hair glowed in the moonlight. I drew my tongue slowly across the blade, savoring the warm taste of blood. I saw the man's face contort in horror.

He screamed at me again, demanding who I was, the spit flying from his mouth. I could see his face red with anger, the veins popping up in his forehead.

"Foreigner!"

I chuckled and likewise, responded in eloquent Japanese.

"I am death. I am God's wrath to be visited upon by the ugly in this world."

"You are the devil!"

"I could be...to you."

"Are you going to kill me, then?"

I cocked my head, dipping a finger into the pool of blood and licking it; he grimaced at me.

"Perhaps...but maybe there is no sport in it." I replied simply. "The others died much too quickly for my satisfaction…but then again you, you I could take my time with."

I rose again, looking upon my prey. I could see the sweat glistening on his forehead and the gleam of the pommade in his hair and I smirked at him.

"Get up!" I commanded. "It does not suit you to be wallowing in their blood."

He stood on shaky legs, his dark eyes gleaming fiercely at me.

"Who are you?" he asked again. "Who do you work for?"

I folded my arms.

" _I_ do not work for anyone." I stretched my clawed hand out and admired the bloodied blades gleaming in the light.

"I am the one holding my claw to your throat. _I_ will ask the questions."

He swallowed but remained firm and I sighed.

"If you must know-and I am not sure it matters, as I will kill you anyway-I am called many things…'Balrog: the Demon of Barcelona', 'the Scarlet Terror'...but you may call me Vega."

He lowered his head and gave a quick bow, though I did not return it.

"Am I to die now, Vega-san?" his eyes regarded me from beneath furrowed brows.

"Are you so eager to die?" I smirked at him.

"I can give you anything! Anything you want! Money! Women!"

"I have no need of money...and what makes you think I would be interested in your women?"

"We have many different ones...maybe some from your country."

"I would gladly skin your whores!" I hissed and his eyes widened. "They would never be fit to touch me."

He swallowed, his eyes darting back and forth and I watched the thoughts cross his mind and then he looked at me, his dark eyes gleaming with new hope.

"Blood! You will swim in blood...all the blood you wish. I have nothing more to offer."

"Is that so? and how could you offer such a thing to me?"

"You speak very good Japanese, Vega-san."

I tossed my head back with an indignant snort, my long braid swinging back over my shoulder. It was a token phrase, a blanket statement that could be used by some Japanese to lure one into a false sense of security with them. I was too smart for the likes of him.

After learning so well from Geki sensei, Geki taught me well in both martial arts and cultural etiquette.

"You know, I have never seen a foreigner like you before. Perhaps you could be of benefit..."

I snickered.

"Your friend lies dead, in a pool of blood, and you wish to hire me?"

He dropped his gaze, rubbing his nose with the back of his hand and he looked back up at me.

"We were brothers, bound by oath...I will miss him, but I cannot fight you alone. I think that you would be fearsome against our enemies."

I shifted my weight and folded my arms, scoffing.

"I am certain of that."

"May I?" gestured the man at his suit pocket.  
I watched him carefully. I was nearly certain he did not have any other weapons, but to my peril, I let him dig in his coat.

"You wish to smoke? Fine, then. It may be your last one."

The man took a cigarette and lighter from his jacket. His hands still shook a little and I chuckled.

He took a deep drag of his cigarette and exhaled, looking at me. The cloud of smoke rose like fog around him.

"My brothers will come for you. It is unforgivable, what you did."

"So? It does not concern me."

"That man owed us a debt, a debt which he was paying when you killed him and my partner. You must pay it back."

I laughed at him. Clearly, he had no idea who he was talking to.

"I owe you nothing!" I hissed.

"You killed one of my brothers and wounded me. The loss of our debt is incomprehensible…" he puffed on his cigarette, locking a dark gaze on me. "You _must_ pay it back."

I smirked, shifting my weight again, leaning closer to him. He may have been a thug but he was a much smaller stature than me and I towered over him. My shadow encompassed him in the dim light.

"Is that...a threat?"

I could see his eyes sparkling in the darkness and I could see him swallowing.

"It is the _truth_. If I cannot make you pay us compensation for damages, _they_ will."

I chuckled.

"I do not fear your _organization_."

The glow of the end of his cigarette smoldered like an ember and I knew he was shaken.

Before either one of us could make another move, a shiny black car pulled up blocking the alleyway and more men in suits piled out, surrounding us. The clicking of guns echoed through the alley as they pointed them all at me.

One called out to his comrade that I had so eloquently pinned down. The others fanned out and observed the slaughter of their brother and their mark.

He smirked now, confident that he was safe, folding his arms.

"I told you they would come."

I beheld each of the men but I was still resolute.

One approached him, speaking in rapid-sounding Japanese, no doubt ensuring he was unharmed and wondering what had happened.

"It is all right," he announced to the group as they held their guns trained on me.

"He saved me."

A collective utterance was heard among the men and I had to keep my jaw from falling off and hitting the floor. I took a breath and locked my gaze on his, ensuring I had heard correctly. The gleam in his eye told me I was correct. I did not know what he had planned, or what I had to do with it but now, I would find out, whether I wanted to or not.

Puzzled glances were exchanged among the men and he continued to puff on his cigarette.

"Come, Vega." he beckoned towards the waiting car.

I sighed, resigned to my unknown fate.


	5. Chapter 5

**DISCLAIMER/TRIGGER WARNING:**

 **This story contains content of a highly disturbing nature that may be offensive to some readers: including (but definitely not limited to): domestic abuse, rape, blood & gore, general violence, and torture, bad language. Please DO NOT read if you are likely to be offended! Vega's life is not a pretty picture!**

 **Vega & other Street Fighter characters owned by CAPCOM. Victoria de Cerna & Marc Antoní Gauldera belong to me.**

* * *

Wiping my claw, I removed it, climbing in the back seat, sandwiched between the 2 other men.

"Where are we going?" I demanded but there was no response. The air was thick with tension and I sighed, clutching my mask and claw.

Certainly, in this cramped space it would be hard for any of them to attack, but it was not impossible.

I reasoned that if they had planned to kill me, they would have done it already. Still, the man's offer had me intrigued; it appeared he planned to make good on his suggestion of hiring me and whatever ruse this was he made to save himself.

Marc Antoní told me that this kind of self-ingratiating behavior was a cultural phenomenon known as "saving face"; naturally, this exists in many cultures but never so reverently as in the Japanese one. The Japanese, he once explained, were loyal and polite almost to a fault. It seemed to me that this was true even among criminals.

A short time later, we arrived at a building and they ushered me inside. I was instructed to remove my shoes, and I did so without complaint. Afterwards, we went through large doors to another room which looked like an office. An old man sat at a large desk, a large leather chair framing him.

The men bowed deeply and the lone gunman I had spared nudged me on the shoulder, indicating that I should do the same. I gave the old man a brief bow and then, the gunman approached him and bowed deeply again.

" _Oyabun_ …"

"Takeda, what has happened? Where is Yoshida?"

The gunman now known as Takeda muttered some sort of profuse apology, still refusing to rise and meet his stern gaze. He cleared his throat.

" _Oyabun_ , Yoshida-san is dead. Killed by a man who owed us a debt. I would be dead too except, this man saved me." I looked at him realizing he was of course, talking about me.

I rose slowly and met the stern gaze of the old man.

"Is that so?" he replied, looking straight at me. " _Gaijin_ , what is your name?"

I pursed my lips and swallowed down the resentment of being called a foreigner in such a manner.

"I am Vega, _Señor_ , and I am from Spain."

"Is what my man says true?" said _Señor_ Matsuda, seeming to ignore my last statement.

I could feel Takeda's eyes upon me.

"Yes."

The old man sighed heavily, his hands clasped together in thought. The room was eerily silent.

"I see...Takeda, where is Yoshida?"

"The others are retrieving him now."

His superior nodded and he rose from his seat, standing before me.

"Who do you work for, Vega-san?"

I folded my arms with another smirk.

"As I have said before, I work for no one. The blood on my hands is my own."

He nodded with an affirmative grunt.

"I have never seen an assassin such as you, however, we are not averse to hiring...foreigners. We have many Koreans, Chinese, Thai, even some Americans who join our ranks now and again."

"We?"

" _Hai_ , I am Hideki Matsuda, leader of the Toriiyama _Zaibatsu_."

"Ah, are you connected to the Yakuza?"

 _Señor_ Matsuda gave a wry smile.

"Very good, Vega-san. I believe that we could have a mutually beneficial arrangement."

I scoffed.

He signaled the rest of the men to leave and they quickly closed the door behind us.

"How so?"

I folded my arms and leaned against the wall.

"You have saved one of my men from certain death. I am grateful, but now I must ask a favor of you in return… we have certain rivals. They have been encroaching upon our legitimate businesses for months now, making any sort of profit...difficult. We are like any business and like any business, we cannot afford this kind of disruption. There are people that need to be removed but we cannot risk police involvement. Unlike you, I cannot have blood on my hands. I would pay you well."

"I see. Killing isn't your sport, is it? It something to which I greatly enjoy and I would happily kill anyone you wish."

"Very good, Vega-san. There will be some trial before you are one of us. _Gaijin_ or not, we cannot have the uninitiated among our ranks. In working for us, you must obey my rules and the rules of the organization."

"Just a moment, Matsuda-san. I have no intention of joining your little gang! I will work for whomever decides to pay, but that is all."

" _Gang!_ " he spat. "We have thrived for hundreds of years, far more than any little street gang could hope!" he sighed heavily for a moment, looking down at the floor.

"As I said, I am not averse to _hiring_ a foreigner to get his hands bloody—I never asked you to join— _you_ are not Japanese. You cannot truly be Yakuza. However, I must ask that you do not do anything that would harm our reputation, that is all. In return, you will have money, women, anything that you would ask! I can hire you as a mercenary, independent of our organization."

I snickered.

"I do not believe you could ask that of a mercenary, _any_ mercenary, for that matter. Do you really think they can be trusted to uphold such an honor?"

"I suppose it is a risk I can afford to take."

"And why is that?"

His dark eyes gleamed seriously.

"My reasons are my concern."

I sighed.

"Very well. I accept your offer. That would appear suitable, for now."

"Good! I am pleased." He turned away, looking at some pictures on the wall.

"My enemies have changed through the years. I battled the rival faction for control of this region for decades. The head of this group died a few months ago, only a little older than I am. We were comrades, fighting side by side during the War, for the glory of the Japanese Empire…" he let out a heavy sigh and he chuckled wryly. "But it seems the Americans had other ideas." The old man's shoulders slumped in defeat. I stepped closer beside him and looked at the picture that held his gaze.

It was a group of young men in uniform, most likely boys not much older than I, standing in a row with stoic looks on their faces, guns across their shoulders. The black & white photo was faded to a greenish-gray hue.

Carefully, he lifted a katana sword from the wall where it was displayed, a fond smile on his face. Slowly and carefully he pulled it from his scabbard, the blade gleaming in the light.

"Ah, my service sword. I carried it at my side just as my samurai ancestors did centuries ago...but, things are not the same. As of now, his son leads the organization…" he gripped the hilt of the sword tight, and I noticed for the first time that he was missing his ring finger of his right hand as struggled to maintain his grasp.

"He knows no honor. Today, the young climb on the back of the old, caring not for anyone but themselves. There must be order! Those who cannot ruled themselves must be ruled!"

I grinned and I could tell I would like him, for however long I chose to stay. Although I admired his fervor, I must admit, he gave me a certain chill down my spine with the ferocity of his words reminding me of Miguel.

"Vega-san, do this for me and I will be grateful! The snake cannot move without its head; I plan on consolidating these groups and claim this region for myself."

"It will be done! And as for Americans, if I should see any, I will be happy to eradicate them for you."

He turned sharply to me, his eyes held an excited gleam.

"They are fat, useless, ugly creatures who contaminate every culture they find." I hissed.

The old man chuckled again.

"What is it?"

"My ancestors said that of _your_ people a few hundred years ago!"

The Spanish & Portuguese were among the first to make contact in Japan.

Although I objected to his comparison, I nodded.

"You have a point, _Señor_."

* * *

With a picture in hand, I moved quickly across the rooftops on to my target. When I was certain I was at the right location, I waited crouched on my knees as a spider waiting for a fly. For this kill, I decided on a different tactic than my normal _modus operandi_.  
I knew that taking out any more than my intended target would complicate matters, as I had learned previously, and I could hardly afford to take out an entire syndicate. Discretion, I decided would have to be the key for now, but that only meant I would have more opportunities later where it would not matter how many I killed. Of that I was certain.

I pulled out my _kunai_ from a sheath hidden on my wrist, hanging over the ledge of the building, waiting…

Soon enough, he emerged, surrounded by 2 or 3 lackeys. Looking down, it was almost like history repeating itself...but, this time, it would be different.

I focused on the taut muscles of his neck while he was turned away, not even bothering to look up. I smiled to myself. I realized that he deserved to be killed just for taking his surroundings for granted.

I threw the knife and it landed squarely in his neck, severing his jugular. Blood gushed out and he clamped his hand to his neck, collapsing to the ground. His guards drew their guns and whirled around; I melded into the shadows before they managed to look into my direction.

Falling back, I waited and inevitably, they removed the knife from his neck. If he was not already dead, he was now. They did not take the knife with them, instead, throwing it carelessly to the ground.

Once they carried his body away, I jumped down and retrieved the bloody knife—I knew my new employer would want some kind of proof.

Satisfied with my kill, I returned to my new employer, certain beyond a doubt he would be pleased.

"You did very well, Vega-san." replied my employer, holding the knife in his hand lengthwise and lightly twisting the tip into his finger as he examined the blood.

"Thank you. I never miss."

"Are you certain you did not cause any more trouble? After the incident with my men, I had my doubts about you."

I folded my arms and shifted my weight.

"Because I am a foreigner?"

He looked up at me from the knife.

"Perhaps...but you have not proven yourself to me, _yet_."

I lifted my head.

"Oh but I _will_. You will see."

"I look forward to it, Vega-san. For now, I have prepared a room for you at one of my estates. You will be looked after there until you are needed. Good night." he replied, turning away and I looked back at his guards standing in the doorway.

Their hands were clasped in front of them, waiting patiently. They nodded at me and I took it as my signal it was time to leave.


	6. Chapter 6

**DISCLAIMER/TRIGGER WARNING:**

 **This story contains content of a highly disturbing nature that may be offensive to some readers: including (but definitely not limited to): domestic abuse, rape, blood & gore, general violence, and torture. Please DO NOT read if you are likely to be offended! Vega's life is not a pretty picture!**

 **Vega & other Street Fighter characters owned by CAPCOM. Victoria de Cerna, Miguel de Cerna, & Marc Antoní Gauldera belong to me.**

* * *

 _ **New year! New chapter! More coming up very soon! Vega's journey is almost at an end so, read on...**_

* * *

I arrived at a smaller traditional Japanese home. The doors were delicate rice paper and wood, _shoji_ screens, they were called, and the floors were lined with tatami mats.

Taking off our shoes at the door, the guards ushered me inside.

Once inside, a young girl in a pink kimono greeted us formally. She appeared to be close in age to me. Her skin was pale like delicate porcelain, a contrast to her long black hair that was done up in a high bun atop her head. A delicate flower hair comb accented the style.

She bid me to follow her.

Down the hall passed many rooms was my room. Gesturing me inside with a wave of her hand, I went inside and sat on my knees. She bowed and kneeled, slowly closing the door, making a gentle scraping sound against the tatami mat as it closed.

I sighed and looked around.

Compared to my western lodgings, the room was sparse. Certainly, it had more than Geki's home, but still this was meager.

On the floor behind me a mattress and blankets lay. The Japanese did not sleep on beds suspended in frames but I had found in my time spent with Geki that I could be comfortable on the floor.

This is something that I could have never even imagined growing up-I may have been an abused child, but even I knew the luxurious warmth and comfort of a sturdy bed.

Antique scrolls and woodblock paintings decorated the room, dimly illuminated by paper lamps, casting long, lonely shadows on the wall.

An unsettling silence filled the room and I sat there for what seemed like hours until at last there appeared a silhouette against the door and a familiar soft voice spoke.

"May I enter?" said a Japanese voice.

"Come in," I replied.

The same scraping sound of the door against the tatami mats came as the girl I saw before poked her head through. She was on her knees and began to push a plate of food through the doorway.

I sat forward and began to help her but she dismissed me.

" _Iie iie, daijoubu_ ," said the girl. "I will do it."

Once the plate of food was closer to me, I accepted it and took it from her.

She placed her hands in her lap and bowed, beginning to turn away. I laid a hand on her arm and she startled.

"Wait! Thank you for the food. What is your name?" I asked her and she turned to me.

Only for a few moments she looked up at me, her dark brown eyes sparkling like the starlit sky above as our eyes met. Her lips glistened, small and pink, her cheeks flushing the same pale color.

"I am Mariko," she averted her eyes again.

Poking from the collar of her kimono, I could see the edge of what looked like a tattoo on her neck.

I was intrigued; so far, all the Japanese women I had encountered were either as loose any woman in my country with their skin-tight, skin baring clothing, or as chaste as nuns, barely showing their flesh at all.

There seemed to be no in between here-except for her. I could not explain what attraction I had to her. Japanese women as a whole seemed almost too plain to be so and yet, she fascinated me. What pure looking girl would cover her flesh with ink?

"Don't go, please. Talk with me awhile."

I licked my lips and watched her carefully, waiting for her to respond. She did not turn away. Mariko kept her gaze down and balled her fists in her lap, her legs politely tucked under her.

I expected her to turn away at any moment, but instead, she kept her head down. It was almost like she was frozen in place, a servant waiting to obey some unseen master.

I pushed a lock of my long hair behind my ear and reached forward towards her. My fingertips gently grazed her cheek and she flinched, as if I had pinched her. Her reaction did not alarm me, though it slightly confused me.

"What is that?" I pointed at her neck. "May I see it?"

Suddenly, she clamped the collar of her kimono against her neck with a gasp and rose.

"I have to go!" she spoke in hasty, informal Japanese, turning to leave.

She spoke so quickly, I almost did not understand her.

"Wait!" I called out to her to no avail.

She closed the door behind her without another word, and I could hear the soft swishing of her kimono and quick footfalls as she hurried away.

I fell back against my bed with a heavy, exasperated sigh, punching my pillow.

There was a familiar ache in my loins. I slid my hand slid down to my stomach and stopped; the need was there, but I felt no desire.

* * *

I awoke the next morning to a rough male voice hollering through the house. It was too early for my brain to process Japanese, but the sun rose regardless. I could see the dim orange light streaming in the windows and shining through the delicate paper screen of the door.

After a few moments, the fog cleared from my brain and I began to understand.

I sat up, listening to the rough male voice as it rang through the house.

" _Ooi!_ Mariko-chan! _Ooi!_ " he called out. "Mariko!"

Then I heard a familiar female voice.

" _Hai!_ " Mariko's voice sang out in response from what sounded like the back of the house. I could hear the soft pattering of her feet and the swishing of her kimono as she hurried passed my room.

"Where is the foreigner?" asked the man I now recognized as Takeda, the man I had "spared" the other night.

"Who? Vega-san? He is asleep down the hall. I have not yet made his breakfast."

"So I see...Mariko-chan, the foreigner, you must be careful! He is the one who killed Yoshida-san!"

"What?"

" _Un,_ " he affirmed. "he spared me, but Yoshida was not so lucky. He gutted him like a fish! I have never _seen_ such bloodshed!"

She let out another gasp. I chuckled, listening in earnest.

"It is alright, Mariko-chan. I am sure he won't harm you-but, if he does, you know what to do.

" _H-hai._ "

I sighed and rolled my eyes, laying back down.

I laid my arm across my face, continuing to listen.

"Have you brought your father his tea this morning?"

"No."

"He was in a sorry state this morning without it! You must bring it to him when you've gotten Vega up."

"I...I will."

"Now, hurry! You must wake him. Your father wishes him to accompany me today on some errands."

" _Hai. Wakatta._ " she muttered quickly.

I could hear her footfalls coming towards my room and I sat up.  
"Vega-san! _Iku zo. Isoide!_ " I heard Takeda call to me. His rough tone was obviously not limited to Mariko, but I expected nothing less of the thug.

" _Ay, ¡por dios!_ " I swore at him under my breath.

His crude bellowing was the _last_ thing I wanted to hear first thing in the morning-or any time, really.

I hurried to put my shirt on. My hair was messy but still remained braided. I decided I would have to keep it that way in case they needed me. This decision did not appear to be in vain.

"Ohairi!" she called out.

There was a pause and then, door slid open and Mariko knelt in the doorway.

" _Ohayou gozaimasu._ " she said as she bowed to me. "It is time to wake up, Vega-san." she lifted her head.

She gasped seeing me sitting up in bed, one arm through my shirt, showing half of my bare chest and my stomach.

I watched her pale face turn as pink as the kimono she wore, and she quickly looked away.

"Ah, _sumimasen_ , Vega-san."

I smirked at her as I finished dressing.

" _Daijoubu_ , Mariko-san. I am dressed now."

She turned back to me and I could hear her sigh of relief.

"Takeda-san wishes you to come with him right now."

"All right. Please tell him I will be ready soon."

She nodded and shut the door. I dug out the mirror I had from my luggage that I was able to retrieve from Marc Antoní's penthouse.

I grimaced at my disheveled appearance, smoothing my hair down with my hands and after dressing, emerged to meet Takeda.

"Takeda-san, you wished to see me?"

" _Hai._ Matsuda-san asked that you accompany me on some errands today."

"Does he not think I am capable of handling his missions on my own? I do not need a handler, Takeda-san!" I hissed.

Takeda took out a cigarette and lit it before responding in turn with a smirk.

"Until he can trust you, you _do_. Come on." he beckoned me out the door.

I was not surprised when we pulled up to some quaint small business and Takeda and 2 others went inside. I opted to stay in the car; I noticed before they left the car that they pulled their guns. It did not take much to figure out what they were doing there.

I sighed heavily, laying my head back against the seat and closed my eyes.

I began to doze off when a sharp rap at the car window woke me.

" _Ooi!_ No sleeping, Vega-san! We've just started." Takeda-san yelled with another lit cigarette hanging from his mouth and he grinned at me.

I rolled my eyes and I cursed at him in Spanish under my breath once more. I wondered for a moment why I had not killed him. I did not know if working for a powerful crime organization was going to be worth it if it meant putting up with the likes of him.

Before I knew it, the other men crowded next to me and Takeda sat in front, a large cloud of smoke rising from all their cigarettes. I coughed and opened a window so I could breathe. Aside from being such a _vile_ habit, smoking was also beneath me.

"Why did you bring me?" I demanded.

"Because I thought you might be of some use. Apparently, my boss misjudged your worthiness…" Takeda held his cigarette between his index and thumb, looking at me through the rear-view mirror.

"My job _isn't_ killing wretched street merchants."

" _Your job_ is to kill whoever he says to kill." he intoned sharply.

I rolled my eyes and snickered at him,

"If that is who he wishes me to kill, then perhaps you are not good enough at _your_ job."

Takeda growled and turned around, pointing the gun at my head.

"You disobeyed already today. A finger or your life, either way, honor will be restored."

I rolled my eyes at him again and pushed the gun away.

" _I_ am not yakuza, you uncouth lout! Take me back. I will deal with him myself."

"He will deal with you when he wishes. You have not earned the right to speak with him."

"Fine. Take me back! Take me back, I said!"

He turned away and clicked his tongue, putting the gun away. He muttered something quickly to the driver and before I knew it, I was heading back to the house.

"Call me when you have a _real_ mission." I hissed as I slammed the car door.

* * *

A few days later, I was called into the office to see _Señor_ Matsuda.

He sat at his desk, a pot of tea and some cups next to him. Mariko stood at his side, in her usual kimono, her hair swept up into a tight bun.  
Takeda stood on his other side, hands clasped in front of him, looking stoic.

"So, Takeda-san tells me you have been going on errands for me."

Takeda and I shared glances at one another but neither of us spoke.

"Yes, I have Matsuda-san."

The old man coughed and Mariko poured him some tea.

"Ah, _gomen nasai_ , Vega-san. I am old and my health isn't what it used to be. These few days have been...tiring, you see, but I have my beautiful daughter at my side." I could see his dark eyes gleaming with happiness. I nodded.

Mariko handed him another cup of tea and slowly brought it to his lips.

" _Daijoubu, Otousan, daijoubu_ …" she cooed to him.

He began to cough loudly and violently and suddenly, he fell from his chair to the floor, continuing to cough, the tea cup fell beside him.

Mariko and Takeda exchanged glances, but I am not sure if they saw I noticed.

" _Otousan!_ " Mariko ran to his side. She gently pulled him up.

"Takeda-san, help me!" she cried and he kneeled at the old man's side.

I crouched down carefully before him

"Are you alright, _Señor_ Matsuda?"

He glanced up at me, his old eyes watering.

"I-" Matsuda-san began to cough violently. "I am fine. I just need w-water."

Mariko vanished for a moment and returned with a glass of water, gently tipping it to his mouth.

"Father, are you sure you'll be alright? We must get you to the hospital."

" _Iie, iie_." he said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "No, the company needs me." Takeda-san pulled him up back into his chair.

I folded my arms and surveyed the scene.

"Vega-san, please, just a moment. I will get my breath."  
I nodded.

Mariko and Takeda looked at me, and with a quick bow, Mariko left the room. Takeda resumed his place like a statue, standing by the old man's side.

"Takeda, leave us."

"Are you sure, _Oyabun_?"

"Do you question me?"

"N-no, sir!"

"Good. Now, leave us."

Takeda nodded and bowed, leaving quietly.

The air hung thick in silence and I waited for the old man to speak.

"Vega-san, there is a reason I have called you here alone. I am old, but I am not dumb. I have many enemies...far more than you have killed. They are all around me and I have little time left."

"What is it you wish?" I asked.

He let out a heavy sigh, I could hear his lungs wheezing.

"I have a mission for you, more people must be killed. You can do it any way you wish. Do this and I will know..."

"Know what?"

"That you are worthy." and he smiled weakly, but there was a gleam in his old eyes.

 _ **TO BE CONTINUED...**_

* * *

 **GLOSSARY:**

Iie - No

Ooi - Hey!

Iku zo - Let's go!

Osoide - Hurry up!

Daijoubu - (I'm/it's) OK

Hai - Yes

Un - Yeah

Wakatta - Understood

Por dios - My God!

Ohayou gozaimasu - Good morning

Ohairi - I'm coming in

Sumimasen - Excuse me

Otousan - Father

Gomen nasai - Forgive me

Oyabun - Father; head of Yakuza


	7. Chapter 7

**DISCLAIMER/TRIGGER WARNING:**

 **This story contains content of a highly disturbing nature that may be offensive to some readers: including (but definitely not limited to): domestic abuse, rape, blood & gore, general violence, and torture. Please DO NOT read if you are likely to be offended! Vega's life is not a pretty picture!**

 **Vega & other Street Fighter characters owned by CAPCOM. Victoria de Cerna, Miguel de Cerna, & Marc Antoní Gauldera belong to me.  
**

* * *

One night, I awoke to familiar sounds; something I had not heard in a while. I could tell it was coming from Mariko's room at the end of the hall. I stood and crept to her door. I crouched down and I could see a space between the screen.

As I had suspected, Mariko and Takeda were having sex, though I could not exactly tell if it were consensual.

The way she moaned, she sounded as if she were being tortured. I was more than familiar with a woman's cries of ecstasy but, this was just one more thing that confounded me about Japanese women.

I smiled and looked up at the ceiling, with its low-hanging rafters it was no different than any traditional home that ninjas prowled about in over 600 years ago.

With little effort, I climbed up the walls, the way Geki had taught me, swinging from beam to beam until I silently landed on a beam directly beneath them. I sat there, quietly enjoying the lewd scene before me.

Mariko was still in her kimono, though it hung loosely around her body as Takeda took her from behind, and he was fully dressed except his pants that were obviously undone around his hips. He grunted like the pig he was and I reminded myself that he would be the first I would kill when I had the chance.

Even with my vantage point, I got a view of what she had tried so desperately to hide; her tattoo was on full display now. I had never seen such intricate art on a woman before.

Every inch of her pale flesh was colored in ink, from her neck to her ankle. I wondered how long it had taken her and why she had it in the first place. I knew enough about tattoos to know that women rarely covered themselves in tattoos in the same way that men seemed to do.

Louder and louder her moans grew and judging by her shrieks, I still could not tell if he was somehow killing her, but I knew either way that they would be done soon and that I should leave. Feeling satisfied with what I saw, I disappeared back into my room without a sound.

The next morning, I joined Mariko for breakfast. It was a quaint traditional meal of rice, miso soup, tamagoyaki, and grilled fish. She poured me some green tea and we sat in silence while we ate.

"Mariko-san, is Takeda-san your lover?" I inquired between a mouthful of rice, breaking the silence.

Immediately, her pale face turned scarlet and her mouth hung open.

" _Iie!_ No, no. It's not like that. Takeda watches over me for my father, that is all."

I grinned.

"Is that why you spread your legs for him?"

"What?" she rose from her seat, her dark eyes gleaming fiercely at me. "How dare you?"

"I heard you last night, screaming like a whore!"

She balked at me, speechless.

"That's not—"

"Isn't it? I could hear you from my room. _Obviously_ , you were enjoying it."

"No!" she cried.

"No? He raped you then? He should be punished."

"Takeda did not rape me." she said quietly, looking down. "I do not enjoy it, but I cannot say no."

"If you cannot say no, then he _must have_ raped you."

"No! You do not understand. I belong to him so I must obey."

I sighed, shaking my head and I walked up close to her.

"Women are all the same. You are such fickle little whores; it is never 'yes' or 'no' with you. When you say no, you never mean it, but that's okay because I know you really mean yes." I drew my face close to hers, stroking my finger down her cheek.

Mariko screamed and backed away from me. I pinned her against the wall, her dark eyes searching mine. I felt a sharp poke against my chest, and I looked down to see her pressing a dagger into my chest.

I grinned at her, seizing her wrist and knocking the dagger from her hand.

"Very clever, Mariko-san! You are stronger than I give such a delicate flower like you credit."

"W-what will you do to me?" I chuckled at her.

"You? Nothing...I won't do anything you don't want me to, anyway."

She pushed away from me, standing near the table, watching me warily.

"You're so beautiful, Mariko-san. I have never been attacked by such a beautiful woman before."

"Stay away from me, Vega-san!"

I gave a mock frown.

"Pity. I wouldn't dream of hurting you…"

" _Usotsuki!_ " she cried.

"Ay, such sharp words, Mariko-san."

"Will you believe everything that ugly pig Takeda says about me?"

"He says you killed Yoshida-san!"

I chuckled softly with a sigh.

"I did."

Her eyes widened and she covered her mouth. I stood there, watching her, reading her expression.

We stood there in silence for several moments and after awhile, I watched her body relax, her hand dropping away from her face.

"...I suppose I should thank you." she said finally.

"Oh? Is that so?" I said, shifting my weight and folding my arms. I knew she would reveal herself soon enough and I listened as she spoke.

"Yoshida-san raped me several months ago. Takeda-san said he would punish Yoshida, but nothing ever came of it. My father is too ill to deal with these things himself."

I burst into laughter at which she looked confused.

"Indeed, I was right; you women are all the same, all the same…"

She continued to look at me with a baffled expression.

"You sleep with a man you do not want but it is not rape; a man raped you but nothing was done. _I_ had to be the one to clean up your mess!" I hissed, I could feel the disgust rising in my throat.

I cornered her again, and I grabbed her jaw.

"If you wanted to thank me, I could have you on your knees right now!"

My stomach lurched and I pushed her away.

"You disgust me. You _all_ disgust me!"

"You do not understand!" she cried.

"I understand more than you think, Mariko-san."

She shook her head violently.

"No, please. Let me explain...we can talk over tea."

" _Tea?_ "

Mariko nodded and picked up a small iron cup, handing it to me.

I sniffed it, an aromatic blend of green tea with a familiar floral scent. I tossed it to the floor.

I grabbed her by the wrists and she cried out.

"What pretty poison you are...I _know_." I glared at her.

"W-what?"

I smirked, my grip tightened on her and her eyes widened.

"Your father is ill because of you, isn't he?"

Mariko looked down.

" _Isn't_ he?"

"It isn't what you think. I have no choice."

"Do you hate him so? If that is the case, then I can assure you I understand."

If indeed she did, I could more than empathize with her but I knew she was too treacherous to have much more sympathy for her.

Tears streamed down her face as she looked up at me, a familiar sight.

"No...no. I love him."

"Then, _why?_ "

Her eyes darted away.

"Takeda?" I pushed.

"Please, you mustn't tell! You musn't! I...I cannot face him."

I smirked and she reached up on her tip-toes and kissed me suddenly.

Breaking away, she looked at me, her eyes shining in fear. I pulled her into my room and pushed her down on the bed. I laid over her, beginning to undo her obi.

She lay there, silently, looking away as I beheld her milky white skin, covered in beautifully intricate tattoos, covering every inch, even her pert breasts.

It was a cherry blossom pattern that stopped at the neck, a few inches of her torso bare so as to hide her tattoos beneath her kimono. I had never seen anything so beautiful in all my life.

I watched her chest rising and falling, her breaths shallow in anticipation, kissing her navel.

"You are exquisite."

"I am no one. I am nothing."

I grabbed her by the wrists, pinning them above her head and looking into her dark eyes.

"Oh I am certain of that. I shall make you wish you never met me."

That night, her cries were louder than they were the night before; and I shall tell you now that I still felt no attraction to her.

My pleasure was solely for her torment and I cared very little about how she felt.

Even now, I can still remember the delicate and intricate imagery of her tattoo as she writhed beneath me.

A tinge of satisfaction washed through me as I watched her crudely tie her kimono shut and she limped out of the room a while later. I smoothed back my hair, admiring myself in the mirror, contemplating my next move for the day.

This petty squabble of in-fighting in their organization had little interest to me.

Takeda claimed me for his own purposes, none of which remained clear until that pretty little whore Mariko shed her scales. The old man had the same interest in me, no doubt to ferret out the danger that crowded all around him, the kind that his feeble eyes could not see.

While this fight did not concern me in the least, if there is one thing I learned in a life lived in fear, I could always tip the scales in my favor, no matter the true victor.

* * *

Donning my assassin garb late that night, I made for the sanctum where the old man lived. It was not hard to find; they kept me in that home but I was not a true prisoner. I had taken to following Takeda since the night I saw him with Mariko.

I leapt onto the roof of the building, carefully crawling along the wall until I found his window. To my surprise, I found it unlocked but then, who has ninja threats these days?

Easily I popped open his window, and the old man sat up with a start. He turned on his lamp and I was unsurprised to see his gun pointed at me.

"W-who's there?"

" _Daijoubu._ " I replied.

"Vega-san?"

"Yes."

I removed my mask and he lowered his gun.

"How did you get in here, past the guards?"

I chuckled,

"That's not important. What is more is why I am here."

"I am listening."

"Although I am a gaijin, I have done all that you asked up till now."

"That is so." he nodded.

"I asked for nothing, I had no interest in your personal affairs, but it seems that is not to be…"

He cocked his head in curiosity.

" _Señor_ , you have been ill lately, haven't you?"

"Oh that. I am an old man, Vega-san…"

"Come now, your Yakuza instincts tell you more than that, don't they?"

He sighed heavily.

"I have suspected for a long time now that there are those below me that would have my head. But, we are a family and family is loyal. Always. I have not let myself see it."

"Indeed."

"I am not as senile as they think me. I know that my life is in danger and that this danger is from within. Tell me what you know."

"Very well."

I bowed and continued.

"Mariko and Takeda scheme against you. It is she putting the poison in your tea, on his orders."

The old man looked away for a moment, a sadness in his eyes and he rubbed his chin in thought.

"That is...unfortunate." he gave a wry chuckle. "but, I could never expect much from the daughter of a whore…"

"Is she your daughter?"

"Thank the gods, no! But in the Yakuza, we are all family. She is merely working to pay off her mother's debt."

"And Takeda-san?"

"I was proud of him. He has worked hard in this organization, climbing the ranks to be one of my best lieutenants. Still, he is a low-life thug at heart, just like when I found him on the streets. That he would betray me is still no shock." he turned to me, looking me in the eye.

"Vega-san, if what you say is true, you must bring me proof of this conspiracy. I will not execute one of my best men on the whims of a foreigner."

I sneered and rolled my eyes.

"Oh I will. Just say the word and I will bring you their heads!"

He waved his hand at me.

" _Iie, iie_. Bring me the proof. That is _all_ I ask...I will deal with this problem accordingly afterwards."

I bowed again with a grin.

"As you wish."

 _ **TO BE CONTINUED...**_  
 **  
GLOSSARY:**

Iie - no

Usotsuki - liar

Daijoubu - It's ok


End file.
